


Relics of the Past

by tessdebelle



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, Tomb Raider AU, archeology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessdebelle/pseuds/tessdebelle
Summary: In search of a lost city and ancient artifacts, Professor May makes an unlikely ally. Tomb Raider AU.
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 11
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what this is. I'm, let's say, inebriated as I write all of this at 2:30 in the morning. I've been playing a lot of Tomb Raider while stuck in quarantine and the plot of Rise of the Tomb Raider struck me as an interesting Philinda story. Knowing the game is not necessary to read this!

“Trust me, May, I’m very aware of how difficult it is to get you to open your mouth,” Ward sneered, a glint of cruel humor in his eyes. His jibe did little to change Melinda’s rage-filled gaze, although the rest of her face remained stony. “But we’ll get you to talk. It may take some time, but I’ll enjoy playing with you.” Her former lover gripped her chin in his hand before dropping it and pushing her back into the prison cell, laughing at her through the bars. “But not yet. There’s plenty of time for that.” Grant Ward laughed as he left the room, his betrayal to her fresh in her heart. 

Lovers had been deep in the past, but Melinda had at least considered the man a friend who she could trust until the reveal. She’d known he had a complicated history, but Hydra? The very organization that had done so many horrific things? She grimaced, standing and brushing muck away from her pants as she began to search through her cell with clumsy fingers in search of how to get out. 

“You know, I would have spat in his face or offered a rude retort, but I like the silent treatment. Might be more effective than anything I’ve done.”

Hair whipped as Melinda turned to look in the direction of the voice. The cell next to hers held an occupant. He was low on the floor and so hidden in shadows that she hadn’t even noticed him, although sparkling blue eyes alerted her to his presence now that she was aware of him. “I don’t like to talk a lot.” She stated blankly, searching her pockets and tearing open the lining until she found what she was looking for. Lockpicks, sewn into the lining of her pants, offered her a way out of the cell - if she could keep her hands steady enough despite the cold seeping into her bones.

The search for the city of Providence had sent her deep into the wilderness of Russia, which meant below freezing temperatures. The legendary city, supposedly a warm oasis, was nestled within a world of snow and ice, one that Melinda wasn’t accustomed to yet. Her hands shook as she popped the lock, the door swinging open silently. 

Her ‘companion’ in the next cell stood and looked through the bars of it as Melinda searched the room for any relics or weaponry. She took the chance to surreptitiously get a better look at him in the reflection of a window. Perhaps her age or a few years older, the man had thinning hair at the top of his head and a calming face. His eyes were such a soft blue that she found herself unable to pull away for a second. “That was impressive.” He commented, curiosity making his voice rise. 

“I’ve had some experience with this sort of thing.” Melinda said in a clipped tone, turning away from his reflection and shuffling through her formerly confiscated pack. She recalled the tiny island of Maveth, her experience with a cult, and just barely making it out. The adventure that had set her on the path to digging deeper into history and landing Hydra on her tail. 

Poised at the door, reloading her weapon and strapping a knife to her thigh, preparing to make her exit. “Wait!” He said, making her jerk her head up in annoyance. “Take me with you?”

She had to resist the urge to grit her teeth in annoyance. She had a job to do - the last thing she needed was someone - probably a Hydra agent who pissed off his commander - to tag along with her. “I don’t travel with company.” She retorted.

“Do you also not travel with a map?” He asked, jerking his head towards her bag. “I didn’t see one, and based on what I can tell about you, you aren’t from around here.” True enough, but she didn’t want to admit that he was right. “I know this place, I’ve lived here all my life. I can guide you.”

“And why should I trust you?” Melinda snapped. She expected him to be surprised, but if he was, his face didn’t show it. The man was oddly unflinching and impassive to the sight of her anger, which was unexpected. She was used to her students being terrified of her, her friends isolating themselves from her after the accident, and her colleagues berating her for giving up her teaching position in order to go after ‘fairy tales’.

Leaning against the bars, he remarked, “You shouldn’t trust me - I haven’t given you a real reason to. But I wouldn’t be here if I worked with Hydra, and I need to get home. We can help each other.”

Melinda considered just leaving, ignoring the request and leaving him to rot. But the comment about home struck a cord with her - and, reluctantly, she took out the key and unlocked his cell. “Stay back here while I take down the guards. I don’t want you getting in the way.”

Holding up his hands in a mockery of capitulation, he smirked at her as Melinda opened the door to their small prison. Before their guards were even alerted to her leaving, she’d slit their throats with quick and silent precision. She didn’t like to kill, but it had become a necessity back on Maveth, and Hydra were all monsters. She no longer felt remorse at killing them - but was that a good thing or bad?

Most of the building went the same, taking out soldiers without making a sound. It was deceptively easy and she found herself getting into a smooth rhythm - which was her downfall. Her bow, wrapped around the neck of one of the soldiers, just wasn’t strong enough to restrain the massive man. He’d flipped Melinda over his shoulders, seemingly weighing nothing to him, and tossed her onto the ground like a ragdoll, aiming his pistol at her and firing repeatedly. Melinda scrambled back, narrowly avoiding the bullets and getting pinned into a corner. She jumped up onto her feet, about to make a lunge for a desperate attempt to get back, when the man stopped suddenly, his gun dropping. Blood began to well at his lips and then he dropped to the floor, a knife in his back. 

“I know you told me to stay put, but I thought you could use the help.” The man said, picking the knife up from the man’s body and searching his pockets for anything they could use. Efficient and effective, he found cloth, a magazine of bullets, and a handgun. He tucked it into his waistband, glancing up as Melinda stared at him. “What?”

Annoyance flared at the man’s casual nature, even though Melinda found herself slightly amused by the strange circumstances. “I could have done that, you know.” She commented, arms folded across her chest.

“Well, I did.” He shrugged. Simple. Like someone saving her life was a normal, every day occurrence.

Her annoyance dissipated as quickly as it had come. “And… I don’t meet a lot of people who protect me in this line of work.” She finally said. “So, thanks, I guess.” She stuck out her hand to him. She wasn’t sure she trusted him - but saving her life, she at least respected him. “May.”

A smile touched his lips, making his eyes sparkle and soften again. He shook her hand. “Coulson. Now let’s get moving.”


	2. Weaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Melinda fell into the ice and took shelter from the blizzard. Some more background into the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, comment if you're interested in more of this!

Shivers brought Melinda back into consciousness. Shaking herself awake, she stared at the fire emanating warmth, flickers of ash and smoke touching her nose and making her sniff. Across from her, Coulson sat, spinning two sticks of divine-smelling meat. 

“Oh good, you’re awake. I like a receptive audience for my cooking.” He joked. Melinda cracked the tiniest bit of a smile, though she buried it beneath the blankets that wrapped around her body. He grinned back at her, offering the stick of meat. Studying it, Melinda asked what it was. “You don’t want to know. It’s hot and nutritious and you should eat it.” 

Snorting, she did so, tasting slight amounts of game covered in some kind of spice. Despite the fact that it was likely a hunted animal she wouldn’t normally eat, it was good, and she needed the warmth in her stomach. That brought her to her question for him, and what was nagging her as she didn’t entirely remember how she’d come to be here. “The last thing I remember, we were running across the ice, and -” And she’d slipped, thinking the slick ice more solid than it had been. 

Her companion nodded, chewing contemplatively before swallowing. “I fished you out of the water. You were freezing and I got you to a campsite and found some blankets. You were asleep for long enough for your coats to dry.” He said, nodding to the pile of coats beside her. Melinda blinked, realizing she’d been stripped down to her plain black shirt and leggings, her boots removed. Coulson blushed as he recognized she’d realized this. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to remove more, even if it meant you getting frostbite.” 

Although that was an amusing thought, a more prevalent one tugged at her mind. “But you fell in too. I saw you. Shouldn’t you be freezing too?” Instead, he wore a plain tan tunic and black trousers, with boots. No blankets in piles. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t been wearing much in protective garments before.

“I, erm, don’t get cold very easily. Because I’m so used to the climate.”

That definitely didn’t track. Melinda was an archeologist, not a climatologist, but even she knew that freezing water and Siberian winters meant he should be half-frozen, even if he was attuned to the weather. Still, she kept silent, happy to eat and not question her companion’s strange habits. He was intriguing in a way she didn’t want to think about - instead, she focused on the other mystery that had led her to this place. “You claim to know all about this area. That you can help me?” Coulson nodded warily, and Melinda wondered if that had all been a lie. Besides - could any average villager really help her find the lost city of Providence? The artifact there, said to revive the dead? “What can you tell me about Providence?”

Coulson seemed to stiffen, his posture defensive, and he cleaned off his skewer of meat before responding. “I know myths, legends, stories told to the children. If you can tell me what you’ve heard, I can fill in the blanks?”

A subtle suggestion that he wasn’t going to give her all the information she wanted. Melinda was slightly peeved by this, but she didn’t let it show. She could understand despite her annoyance - they didn’t know enough of each other for trust yet. “Thousands of years ago, a group of people became a symbol of power and strength, and possessed an artifact that could revive the dead _. _ ” She recited from memory. The myth had caught her attention as she poured over ancient mythology texts, and she’d gone in search of more information. Now it was as much a part of her life as her divorce, it seemed. “People were afraid of the power they achieved, and so they founded a new city - Providence. But Providence was attacked, and the team, along with all their disciples, were killed by Hydra.” An organization that seemed to still exist today, weaving along the lines of history. They were subtly in every corner of the worst of humanity, manipulating world events like they were puppet strings. 

Coulson nodded along to her story, looking pensive. “Our stories have things a little bit different, but the same core. The team was referred to as The Avengers, and they were considered Gods in our mythology - the God of Archers, Goddess of Assassins, God of Technology, God of Thunder, God of Emotions, and God of Righteousness.” He recited as if by memory. “They didn’t just have disciples - they had an entire army at their disposal, devoted to their mission. They promoted peace, but their abilities were so powerful that, to many people, they appeared to be catastrophic more than heroic.” His face darkened and he fiddled with the edge of his shirt, as if thinking so hard on these stories that he couldn’t face her. “The artifact was known as a Diviner, and it’s revival of the dead was… Spotty.” He gave her a sheepish look. “This is the part that is meant to scare children, I think. The dead started out as themselves, completely normal, sane members of society. But then they began to regress - becoming manic, pained, suicidal. That artifact isn’t to be used.” His face had hardened into a stony expression, and Melinda wondered if he really meant that it was a story to scare children - the serious look on his face made her think otherwise.

“I have no intention to use it on anyone. I want it to be protected and kept out of the hands of Hydra.” She said calmly. 

Coulson visibly relaxed, nodding. “That part of the story is definitely true. Hydra wanted to use the Diviner to create weapons, kill thousands. They tore apart the city in search of it, killed the Avengers and everyone who followed them.” His voice hitched at that last part, and Melinda filed that information away. “But they never found it.”

“And do you know where it is?”

There was a long pause as Coulson appeared to consider how best to respond. “One of the Gods had a brother. The God of Mischief.” He explained. “He was rebellious and had his faults, but his brother trusted him to hide the Diviner in the last moments before the great battle - or so I’ve heard.” Coulson added quickly. “The God of Mischief hid the Diviner somewhere in the city, but left a map of sorts at its entrance. All the Gods are gone - but the map exists somewhere, and if someone found the city, they could find the Diviner within it.”

Melinda looked out the cave’s entrance, at the blizzard roaring outside. Now wasn’t the time to go searching, but she desperately wanted to find the Diviner. Every second that she waited was a little bit closer to Hydra getting it. The new heads of the organization had reassessed the project and begun the hunt, grabbing onto what information she could dig up and using it for their own gain. A question from Coulson interrupted Melinda’s musings and she looked at him, her face impassive. “Why do you hate Hydra so much?”

The thought of her hatred of the organization caused Melinda’s stomach to twist into cramps. Thoughts of an attack on the library she’d been in, researching the very device, and barely managing to make it out alive as it burned. Finding out that a girl in that library had died while she had survived. The letter from Hydra, warning her that there would be more attacks if she kept digging. “You don’t trust me yet, so I don’t trust you with that.” Melinda snapped.

Far from looking upset or shocked, Coulson nodded in understanding. He was truly a frustrating person. He stood up. “Another time then. For now, I’ll keep watch - get some rest.” He said, walking to the edge of the cave and abruptly ending their conversation even while Melinda only had more questions.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say I know what this is, honestly. I'm back into Tomb Raider and I miss Philinda. Enjoy :)

While Coulson had tried to insist Melinda get more rest, she refused to lay down and sleep while Hydra were out there searching for the diviner. And, even though Coulson said that he thought she should rest, she could sense the urgency in him to go after them. Something about the artifact had him on edge, and she could tell he, perhaps even more than she did, wanted to stop Hydra from getting their hands on it.

Her face buried in the makeshift map Coulson had drawn for her, she could almost ignore the way he kept _looking_ at her – it was like he’d never seen a new person before. Well, maybe that was true, actually. If he lived in a village in the middle of the Russian wilderness, he had probably met very few people from outside of it. Still, it was annoying. She huffed, turning back to the map, but was distracted by trying to decipher his sloping handwriting that she tripped over a tree root.

“Watch out,” He said, catching her elbow. “It can be pretty slippery here. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a lot of snow.” Melinda found herself face to face with him and tugged herself away, trying to blame her flushed cheeks on the weather and not on her proximity to him – or his ridiculous jokes. With a sigh, she tucked the map into her back pocket, picking her way more carefully over the ground.

The silence between them pressed until it seemed like Coulson was burning to speak. Melinda knew too many people like that, and she’d always liked the silence, but in him it was more tolerable somehow. Maybe it was his voice – it reminded her of hot chocolate, thick and rich and comforting. “How does an archeologist end up chasing fairytales, anyway?” He asked. And there it was, more of the needling into her past.

“You seemed to be fine with me not telling you back in that cave.” Melinda pointed out with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Coulson just shrugged it off. “That was then. I said I was fine with it, I didn’t say I’d stop being curious.”

She rolled her eyes but decided that sharing a little bit of information couldn’t hurt – so long as she didn’t tell him everything. Besides, if she was willing to give maybe he might and she would learn some more about the Diviner, or about his strange village. “I was taking part in a study around the Pacific Islands, when a group attacked my team’s ship. They grabbed us and held us prisoner on their island – couldn’t find it on any maps later, they were completely isolated til we got there.” She said, tucking her arms against her middle to ward off the cold. She avoided looking at him, endeavoring to tell the story. “It was a cult, that worshipped some kind of… I couldn’t call him a _God_ , because he was more of a monster. Took over bodies, used his followers as hosts, encouraged them to mutilate themselves and others in order to achieve his idea of perfection. We were supposed to be part of his plans. We took him down.” She couldn’t shake the images she’d seen on that island. Bodies somehow melted down into just bone and sinew in order to feed that wretched thing, a creature made of dust taking over a new host body, shreds of flesh strewn about a temple floor.

After realizing she’d been silent for a long minute, thinking on what she’d experienced, Melinda said, “after that, I started digging into myths. I was sure there was more truth to other stories if what I had seen was true.”

He seemed to take this as the full story and nodded. Even though she hated to share more, Melinda felt a little bit like she should have been – he was helping her, after all. “That’s very brave.” He said.

His comment surprised her and Melinda glanced at him, her shrug deceptively casual. “Don’t know how that’s brave.”

“Most people would shut down after learning there’s more to the world than they know. Digging deeper and trying to do more with it… That’s the brave move.” He said, carefully picking his way though the snow and fallen tree limbs, his eyes meeting hers for a moment with the barest hint of a smile.

Melinda hadn’t thought of it that way. She’d been terrified for so long of everything that had happened and everything that could still happen, that she hadn’t thought of herself as brave – maybe just stupid. “And what about you? Are you brave? You seem to believe all of this stuff.”

“And you don’t?” He pointed out, and Melinda couldn’t quite manage to keep back a hint of a smile.

“I do. But all my former colleagues thought I was insane so I’m not such a great comparison.”

Coulson made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. It was eerie, how he was easy to read and yet difficult to truly understand. And how much she wanted to understand him. She put great emphasis on her studies, on her work, on everything she did; but not on _people_. Not until him, at least. “I have a first name, you know. Not just May.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I figured as much. You didn’t seem to be in a sharing mood though.”

She gave a slight nod, acknowledging his statement. “My name is Melinda.” She said. It was just a name, and yet it felt painfully intimate, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

His smile made his eyes crinkle in an endearing way, and he paused in their steps. “Hi, Melinda. I’m Phil.”

“Hi, Phil.”

“Hi.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes to cover her blush, and trekked onward toward the valley where his village was situated. Where they were to take down Hydra.

**Author's Note:**

> For now, this is just a short drabble - no more long fics for me since I never seem to finish them. But if you enjoyed it, give it a like or a comment and I might write more in this universe. I thought a lot about how to apply AOS to the game's universe so I have ideas. This is yet another AU no one but me probably wants, but it was fun to write nonetheless!
> 
> Other than that - remember to stay healthy, keep social distancing, and support Philinda. ❤️


End file.
